


High Noon

by trynfindme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cowboy Hats, Dean Winchester Has a Wild West Kink, Destiel - Freeform, I love how that was already a tag, M/M, Smut, cowskin pantaloons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:07:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25248142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trynfindme/pseuds/trynfindme
Summary: *snorts into glass of soy milk*
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 13





	High Noon

**Author's Note:**

> Draw Thine Weapons

The spurs on Castiel's boots echoed through the corridor of the dusty motel they had hunkered down in for the night.

Sam was busy doing other shit. He wasn't there for some fucking reason. For once in their goddamn life, Sam and Dean weren't attached at the fucking hip.

Dean stood opposite Cas in the motel room. They were dressed head to toe in old Western garb, as per Dean's request. A low, animalistic growl erupted from the depths of Dean's throat at the sight of Cas in cowskin pantaloons. His shoulders rolled back, his lips parting ever so slightly to release some of the pent up testosterone he was harboring in his loins. Dean was ripe with want.

Cas cocked an emotionless eyebrow up at Dean, beckoning. Almost as if it were a challenge. Dean chuckled, blushing and looking down as he tucked his thumbs into his belt loops. Cas was almost too much to take in, his lean shoulders stretching the tight fabric of his denim button down shirt, a cowboy hat sitting like a halo on top of his pretty little angelic head. Dean was flustered, to put it lightly. Cas's eyes followed Dean's gaze downwards, resting on the painfully tight and buldging area around Dean's crotch. Cas bit his lip and looked back up to examine Dean's pretty face, from his twinkling eyes to the soft pink of his cheeks, the delicate freckles that were sprinkled across his nose. If Cas didn't know better, he'd think the man standing in front of him was an angel.

But Dean was no angel. He was a vessel. A vessel for Castiel's holy throbbing cock.

Dean whimpered as Cas stepped forward, the spurs on his steel toed cowboy boots sending shivers down Dean's spine. All of a sudden Cas disappeared from his view, and Dean felt a hand grab a handful of his ass through the two-sizes-too-small canvas pants he was wearing. A soft moan escaped his throat as Castiel's wet mouth clamped down around a sweet spot on Dean's neck, the brims of their cowboy hats brushing against each other Brokeback Mountain style as they rocked back and forth in their bliss. Dean reached back to feel behind him, pleased to find that the angel was enjoying their endeavors just as much as he was. Dean began to buck ever so slightly, trying in vain to find friction within the confines of his trousers.

"Woah there, partner," Cas attempted a southern drawl in his emotionless, husky voice, failing miserably to achieve the desired effect but earning a soft laugh from his aforementioned "partner." Dean turned around to face Cas, raising a hand up to rest it on Castiel's dimpled cheek, tracing his thumb along the cheeckbone, feeling thick stubble beneath his calloused fingers. Dean smiled.

"You, sir, are, dare I say, bad at this." Before Cas could spit out a retort, Dean closed the gap between them and locked his plump lips around Cas's wet and ready mouth, savoring the moment Cas's lips parted and allowed him entry and the opportunity to explore. It didn't take long for Castiel to take charge again, violently gripping the fabric of Dean's poncho. He then slid his hands undeneath, the feeling of the taut muscle of Dean's abs against his holy fingertips testing his willpower. With one great push, Dean was sent sprawling on the nearest bed, which happened to be Sam's. Ha.

Castiel mounted Dean like a stallion, straddling his abdomen with his boot-clad legs and cowskin covered thighs. Dean bucked aimlessly once more, desperate for some release. Cas gripped Dean's shoulders to hold him in place.

"You will wait. It is necessary to be calm. Patience is a virtue," Cas said steadfastly as he raked his fingers downwards over Dean's ripped chest, sending ripples across the woolen material of the poncho as he traced a straight line to Dean's belt buckle.

"Cas, please," Dean whined as he struggled to reach around his rider and attempt to get himself off. Castiel easily batted Dean's prying hands away, rolling his eyes as he used his angelic mojo to pin them against the bedframe. Dean continued to whine as Cas slowly pulled off Dean's belt, moving again to work at his zipper. At this point Dean's focus had moved from his own cock to the intriguing bulge of the man on top of him, positioned just so it was at eye level. Castiel caught Dean looking and sensed what he wanted, sighing as he pulled them both off the bed and pushed Dean onto his knees in front of him. It took Dean's skilled fingers about a milisecond to work their way through Castiel's buckle and zipper, pulling the cowskin pants down enough that Castiel's plump and ready cock sprung free, but not so much that Dean couldn't still see and feel the Western pants that were getting him all excited.

Castiel's dick was no ordinary dick. He was an angel. His loins were that of biblical proportion. His cock was approximately the size of your Chrysler Building. It was practically a stairway to heaven.

Dean's own personal heaven, at least.

He greedily planted his wet mouth on--

end of fic


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